Stop Voldemort by Ellie
First of all–no spoilers here. There will be plenty of time to delve into the plot specifics.

What I will say is that if the Bible were written like this seven volume masterpiece, people would still be seriously reading it for the story instead of deluding themselves with fairy tales that never happened but were always meant to convey deeper spiritual truths beyond the words composing them.

I can remember making a comment to a professor back in my English 302: Contemporary Lit class back in 1997–something along the lines of: “A work of art must be created that can unite the common mind of humanity with the common heart of humanity.” What I meant by that is that with the instant method of global communication, the field was and remains ripe for a single work of art (which I define as any object that can have a frame drawn around it in space and time) to unite the desires, fears, passions, hopes and secret heart of every human being on the planet.

People must not only be willing to embrace mythology that works to put us in touch with the deeper mysteries of spirits, they must be seeking the myths like a person whose hair is on fire is seeking a bucket of water to dump on it. Well, folks in case you’ve been sleeping these past ten years, that is exactly what the Harry Potter series has done. Seven books, fourteen hard backed covers and seven spines compose the artistic frame and what happens between those hubs is nothing less than pure magic (pun intended).

We care about the images and relationships those words conjure up inside our minds and hearts. And for two full days this weekend, millions read and held their breaths wondering if Harry Potter would live or die, if he would defeat supreme evil and let love reign down o’er us all.

In an age of sociological dismemberment, maniacal terrorism based in ridiculous metaphorical misinterpretation, and governments so divested of their humanity that they suck the soul of anyone they touch like a Dementor’s kiss–along comes a work of art that somehow puts it all into perspective, defines all the parts to the whole within the frame and then blows the frame apart, taking our petty egos with it into the great beyond which is past all words and forms.

I’ll say what others are too pussy to say–this book is a solid work of art. I don’t give a shit about weak writing, cardboard characters or any other third rate literary criticism bullshit you throw at me. The bottom line is that people will be reading these books for hundreds of years, long after they’ve forgotten about Faulkner, Hemingway, and Stephen King. Rowling gave us the ending that Stephen King should have for the Dark Tower series.

I read the 759 pages in a little over 24 hours including taking a break to travel to Cincinnati for a close friend’s baby shower (my wife graciously agreed to drive both ways so that I could finish today and then she can get her hands on the book tomorrow) and I’m still reeling from the experience, a bit like attending a full day’s wake for a close loved one.

All that being said–it hurt like hell saying goodbye to these characters and I can’t wait to see some of these scenes in the final movie in a couple years. Thank you Joanna Rowling–you have done a fine job and have given your fellow human beings something truly special and welcome.

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